


firestarter

by MonsterParade



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: But they really love each other, Cybertronian/Human Relationships, F/M, Robot/Human Relationships, WE ARE FORCIBLY REMOVED FROM A CASUAL RELATIONSHIP, bangin it out on the floor like lovers do, hands HELD, lips KISSED, they're not exactly sure in what way they love each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-06-29 23:38:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19840921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonsterParade/pseuds/MonsterParade
Summary: "I'll take care of you.""It's rotten work.""Not to me. Not if it's you."





	firestarter

**Author's Note:**

> A commission for the wonderful kicksandscribbles on tumblr!! And my first time writing Rodimus as well, so I truly hope I've done an acceptable job!! These two are really sweet, ya'll, and I'm so proud of every single one of you guys who goes forth and lives your best self-inserting life. Just, *chef's kiss* wonderful. <3

Rodimus has been fuming all night tonight.  
  
He's not subtle; even to people who don't know him as well as Leigh does, he's not subtle. He's been making an effort not to show it, trying to tamp it down and bottle it up, and at least this time he's not melted anything with an accidental touch-- but his face is pinched, furrowed heavily between the brows, and as Leigh sits patiently next to him in the empty hangar and waits for him to tell her what's wrong, she feels like she's sitting next to a campfire, bare and hot. Sweat beads on her forehead and the backs of her knees.  
  
Rodimus makes a strangled sound in anger and throws himself backwards, clanging to the metal floor with a sound like a three-car pileup. He sprawls out, spread-eagled, on his back.  
  
Leigh watches him.  
  
"...You wanna talk about it?" she asks after a few moments. Rodimus blinks slowly, squinting, and Leigh waits for him then too.  
  
\--I just," Rodimus begins, raising his hands into the air to gesture, and ah, there it is. "I _just!_ Sometimes I just can't _stand_ it on this ship. Like, don't get me wrong, I love it here; everybody's here, and we've got our quest, and it's good-- it's better than home, anyway. But that's just the thing! _Everybody's_ here."  
  
"Megatron," Leigh guesses. Rodimus lets his hands fall, and they slap down over his eyes so he can dig his palms in. He gets fidgety when he's upset. Well, even _more_ fidgety. Rodimus is like a little star-- he crackles with energy, and sometimes Leigh has to wonder if he'll burn himself out. He's not done it yet.  
  
" _And_ Thunderclash," Rodimus replies, "Megatron _and_ Thunderclash. Two great, massive, can-do-no-wrong know-it-alls pushing their way onto _my_ ship and taking control of _my_ crew! Did you know Thunderclash stopped Whirl from fighting somebody yesterday? Whirl! He defused a fight with _Whirl!_ That's like-- that's like--"  
  
"That's like defusing a fight with Whirl," Leigh agrees, raising her eyebrows. Rodimus nods behind his hands, and the heat coming off of him kicks up a notch. Leigh toughs it out and doesn't move away.  
  
"And _Megatron_ spoke over me the other day, and Magnus didn't even stop him to correct him on his manners. That's even _worse_. He's got everybody blinded. Even Magnus can't get enough of him, just because they both talk like they were given life by an encyclopedia and submit their reports on the hour. It's seriously creepy. Don't you think it's creepy?"  
  
Leigh purses her lips.  
  
Actually, she doesn't. Not really, anyway; to her, it just sounds like Ultra Magus has finally made himself a much-needed friend. And it's a _little_ odd, she supposes, given Megatron's reputation, but she hasn't been around any of them long enough to really be as affected by the horror stories as everyone else is. The numbers, she knows the numbers...but a billion is a _big_ number. Several billion, even bigger. It's hard to visualize that many deaths, and to pair them to the stern grey face she sees on the bridge every morning.  
  
She's thinking honestly, but she must do it for a few seconds too long, because Rodimus moves his hands to peek out at her, and then somehow the frustration on his face even grows. He grunts.  
  
"You too, huh?"  
  
"No!" Leigh interrupts quickly, a sour look crossing her own features. "Nobody's got _me_ 'blinded'. I was just thinking."  
  
They both go quiet, then, for a minute. Leigh takes a small sip of the coffee in her thermos, swishing the bitter taste on her tongue, and then she leans back on her hands, thermos in her lap, legs stretched out in front of her, and looks at Rodimus again.  
  
"I'm sorry for snapping." she says.  
  
"Yeah. Sorry. I'm just-- stressed out."  
  
"I know. It's okay."  
  
It's hard to know what to say when he gets like this. He's been through some _shit_ , Rodimus has-- the war, his brief Primacy, _Nyon_ \-- and as much as Leigh wants to comfort him with words, she knows, perhaps much better than some people, just how hollow those words can feel when all you want to feel is angry. Hurt. Sometimes you _want_ it to hurt, and she's felt that too.  
  
"...I suck," Rodimus says, breaking the silence once again. It's softer, this time. "I really suck. Look at me. Just-- whining, when things are supposed to be all hunky-dory now. War's over. It's done. Everything's better now. Everybody else is better now."  
  
Leigh blinks, a sudden weight in her chest, and this time she _does_ know what to say. She twists where she's sitting, lying down and rolling onto her side, and she scoots and kicks until she's lying stretched out right next to Rodimus, as close as she dares to get to the burn of his plating. Rodimus goes carefully still, making certain not to twitch and scorch her. Leigh looks over at him.  
  
"Hey. Shut the fuck up," she says. Rodimus jerks his head over at her in offended surprise. "Shut the fuck up and _let_ yourself feel bad, if that's how you feel." she continues. "Yeah, the war's over. Things can start to heal. But that's all-- it's _just_ a start. You're allowed to still feel bad about it. About the way that things turned out. Everything's probably still gonna suck for a long time, actually. But it won't do you any good to tear yourself up over it. It won't do _anybody_ any good."  
  
Leigh pillows the side of her head on one arm, holding his gaze with hers, and after a moment's hesitation, she stretches out a hand. Rodimus' eyes dart to it, and then he takes a steadying in-vent and lets it all out in a whoosh.  
  
He laces his fingers with hers. His hand is warm, over-warm, but she doesn't twitch away. She trusts him never to burn her.  
  
"Besides, you've always got me. We can suck together." she adds, cracking a smile.  
  
That surprises a matching one out of Rodimus too.  
  
"--Not if I suck worse _first_."  
  
"I'd like to see you try."  
  
"I'm the _best_ at it! You'd be kissing my shiny tailpipe."  
  
Now the mood has shifted, and Rodimus' smile turns genuine, if still with a little edge to it. Leigh can feel the heat that had been boiling the air around him starting to dissipate, gradually fading, and the mellow warmth it turns to reminds her of a dying fire, fading embers, smoke and quiet.  
  
"I'm not kissing your _anything_ , you're like, a thousand degrees right now."  
  
Rodimus snorts, and Leigh mimics him, daring to knock her prosthetic foot against his leg. It clangs, lightly, and doesn't burn.  
  
"Come on," Rodimus says, and there's the usual chuckle in his words but behind it, and in his optics, is something earnest, "You know I'd never burn you. I can at least do _that_ right."  
  
Leigh smiles back at him, not sure quite what to say to that, and Rodimus rolls a little until he's on his side just like she is, facing her, mirroring her pose, their fingers still laced.  
  
"You _do_ know that, right?"  
  
"I do."  
  
They're simple words, nothing special, but they seem to have been the key to something, because just like that, something changes in the atmosphere between them.  
  
_Electricity_.  
  
And not the way humans usually mean it when they use that word for relationships-- Leigh can feel it against her skin, tasting like ozone on her tongue, chasing goosebumps up her arms-- _real_ electricity, a static charge, something she's never felt before, from Rodimus or any other bot. ...At least, not directed at _her_. An image of Rewind and Chromedome flashes into her mind unbidden, and she remembers a late night at Swerve's bar, sitting in a booth with the pair, feeling a similar buzz between the two of them.  
  
The feeling weighs heavy on her skin. Leigh licks her lips.  
  
She feels like she should _say_ something.  
  
She's no fool-- she's a grown-ass woman, and she's been in her fair share of flings and relationships. The way Rodimus is suddenly looking at her, _very_ suddenly, like he's seeing her brand-new, is something she can recognize even with a new electrically-charged element to it. She can see his pretty blue optics glance from her eyes to her lips and back again, and on reflex, she does the same to him.  
  
She wonders how soft the metal of those lips could be.  
  
"Uh-- do you--"  
  
"If you wanna--?"  
  
  
...And that's really all it takes, and then they're scootching up together.  
  
Leigh doesn't even realize she was worried about it until she ends up thinking to herself, _oh, this is nothing like I was worried about_.  
  
Rodimus doesn't pull her in like a lover. He doesn't open his mouth to slide his tongue across her lips. He lets go of her hand to tilt her face up to meet him, pecks her lips and then her cheek and then the little divot between her brows, and then Leigh snorts and laughs to herself and Rodimus lights up and kisses her lips again.  
  
Lots of quick little kisses, each no more than a second or two, peppered all over her face, making her giggle. Rodimus is pleasantly warm, and he does his level best to work around her grin.  
  
Laughing earnestly now, Leigh pulls back a little to get herself under control, feeling strangely the same ticklish feeling one gets after being set upon by a puppy-- kind of giddy and sweet. She ducks her head to hide her face, scrubbing at her hair, and Rodimus ducks down with her and presses his forehead against hers. His eyes scrunch closed.  
  
Leigh can't see him well from up so close, but she does think it's a very Rodimus sort of expression.  
  
"You're a moron," she says affectionately, pushing her head back up against his so hard it's almost a bump. "What are we now, cats?"  
  
Rodimus makes a sound of mock-offense and pulls back to flip her off (a gesture he'd learned on Earth a long time ago but through _her_ tutelage had perfected), and then before she can do more than guffaw he's moving lower, dragging her up underneath him, and he's supporting his weight on his arms above her and his lips move down to her neck.  
  
The mood shifts again. And this, too, is familiar.  
  
"Well don't let me stop you," she quips automatically. Rodimus actually does stop, before she can retract the flippant statement, and she can see his eyes peep up over her chin, and she can feel his engine rumbling against her skin even with the slight distance between them.  
  
"Do you want me to stop? Cuz I can-- I know this was kinda fast--"  
  
"No! I mean," Leigh cuts him off hastily, "Sorry. I'm just, uh, I'm not really used to this sort of thing anymore. Out of practice now. You can still keep going."  
  
It sounds too much like a command once her words reach her own ears, but before she has any time to feel sorry about it Rodimus has already moved on, and his kisses have moved to the hollow of her throat. She swallows hard, and then she can feel him smiling.  
  
"What's funny?" she asks, defensive. She refuses to admit to being at all flustered.  
  
"Nothing! Jeez, you're so huffy! Do you want me to do this or not?"  
  
His grin is growing. When he talks, she can feel it against her skin.  
  
"Fuck off," she replies without any bite in it, "Stop making me _say_ it. Put your money where your mouth is-- or vice versa, I guess."  
  
Rodimus laughs, loud and sharp, and it vibrates through her and leaves her feeling bubbly, shivery. It feels nice to be up against him like this. It's almost _alarming_ how nice it feels, actually. They've laid around together before, once or twice, just hanging out, but this is different, and it _feels_ different too. Certainly not bad. Just different.  
  
"I'm sorry, _where_ do you want my mouth?" Rodimus asks, laughing. It's halfway a joke; the kind of goofing off, bullshitting each other they always do, but then the other half of the question-- the half that's _not_ a joke-- is left hanging in the air, and then abruptly the heat skating down Leigh's spine is coming less from Rodimus' plating and more from Rodimus' words.  
  
Leigh stares up at him, eyes a little wide, and Rodimus stares at her for a long minute as his laughter fades before he gets it.  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Oh." she agrees.  
  
They both hesitate. There's a minute where they just hover on the precipice, each trying to come to terms with the turn of events between them, and for that minute they can consider the ramifications of their actions, how things will probably change between them when this is all over, and Leigh thinks about backing out, and she can see that Rodimus is thinking it too,  
  
but then someone moves, someone breathes, and that doesn't happen.  
  
They don't pull away. They crash together. Rodimus' lips taste like pennies against her mouth.  
  
"How-- huh, how exactly," Leigh begins in between kisses, squirming in place beneath Rodimus' frame as he digs the fingers of one hand into her hair and lets the other hand start dragging down her body, "How _exactly_ are we going to make this work? Do you guys... _you know?"  
  
_She makes a vague but identifiable thrusting gesture with two of her fingers, and Rodimus' pawing comes to a halt as his nose wrinkles up and then he bursts out laughing. Raucous, too-loud-up-close laughter, a little bit shrill from nerves; his optics gleam with it, and it's so contagious that Leigh feels a chortle rising up from her own chest even while she thumps Rodimus on the shoulder as hard as she dares. She highly doubts he even really feels it.  
  
"Shut! Up! It's an honest question!" she complains, twisting as if she actually has any intention of squirming out from under him, and Rodimus grabs her waist and kisses her again, misses her lips, gets her chin. She sputters and pushes at his helm.  
  
"Yeah," Rodimus snickers, immovable weight, "Interface. Yeah, we do. Do you want a demonstration?"  
  
Leigh thinks she keeps herself from blushing only through sheer force of will. Now _that_ sounds more like the Rodimus she knows; snarky and cocky and kind of smarmy, and paired with the dumb smirk he's trying to hide against her jawline, it's so familiar that it almost feels like coming home. Not for the first time, the realization that she trusts him is almost enough to startle.  
  
Turning the tables, Leigh grabs some of the gently-swooping points of metal on his helm, which is still in her hands, and she splays her legs and pretends to push him down. As if she could move him. As if he wasn't the one letting her fuss him around, as he rearranges himself and his brilliant grin ducks and disappears between her legs.  
  
"Off?" he asks, his lips moving against the rough fabric of her shorts. It's slightly muffled, so close to where she wants him, and Leigh's leg kicks out involuntarily.  
  
"Yeah, lemme--"  
  
"No, here, I can get it--"  
  
"Dude, stop, these are my _favorite_ shorts--"  
  
It takes perhaps more fumbling than was entirely necessary, and two more pairs of hands, but they manage to get Leigh's shorts off of her without tearing the denim and then the beloved piece of clothing is out of her mind entirely, instantly forgotten, as Rodimus shoves his face up against her panties and presses his tongue up against the thin fabric, playing with her through it.  
  
Leigh squawks, a strangled reflexive sound, and tries to hold him in place even though he's not trying to move.  
  
"Don't you tease me," she warns him, pushing back against him, her underwear already damp and getting wetter. "I swear to god I'll kick your ass, Rodimus."  
  
Rodimus laughs like he's breathless, and Leigh whispers a pitiful sound in response to the vibrations.  
  
"I won't, I won't," he reassures her, feeling her gently out for a moment before tugging her panties aside, "I've never had the patience for it."  
  
\-------------- ----------- ----------------  
  
Rodimus, it turns out, unsurprisingly, eats pussy just about the same way he does everything else; with rather a lack of finesse, but with great humor and boundless enthusiasm. He's messy. He's overzealous. A couple of times he goes too hard, too excited, and Leigh has to reign him in a little, but mostly he's hot and soft and lips and tongue and time between them slows to almost a crawl, human and Cybertronian hemmed in together.  
  
Leighs cums embarrassingly fast the first time, unused to the heat of him and the foreign feel of his glossa. The second time takes a little longer, and is a slower, sweeter roll, Rodimus' fingers inside of her, his lips on her clit. She only pushes him away when she starts to get antsy, stroking his helm, guiding him off of her, once his fingers no longer feel like enough. Plus, you know. She's starting to feel a _little_ greedy. She hasn't really done anything for _him_ yet.  
  
"Rodimus-- Roddy," Leigh grunts, coaxing him off of her before she becomes overstimulated and having to cup his chin in her hands to stop him before he can dive back in, "Relax. Shh. Easy. You did great. You did _wonderful_. And now it's your turn. Do you want me to suck you off?"  
  
Rodimus looks down at her with unfocused eyes and her slick on his chin, and he makes a tiny, needy little noise in the back of his throat, his plating flaring to vent extra heat.  
  
" _Uh_ ," he says, and then hesitates, obviously struggling to focus, "Uh, no. I mean-- that sounds _great_ , and maybe-- maybe some other time, I would _love_ that, actually-- but I really want to-- you know? If you'll let me? If _you_ want to?"  
  
Leigh fights to keep the smile off her face and brushes her thumbs along his sticky cheeks.  
  
"That's the most disjointed way anyone's ever asked me if they can fuck me, but yeah. Yes. I want that. I _really_ do." she agrees, and Rodimus sags just a little in relief. Leigh kisses his forehead loudly and then pulls away.  
  
"Let me," she begins, and then reaches down to finally pull her panties off, the fabric sticky from where it had been brushing against her, kicking them off of her ankles. She leaves them abandoned on the ground, aware that they're sprawled out together on the floor of an empty hangar instead of someplace private, but she just cannot be assed to care at the moment, and as soon as they're off of her she's grabbing Rodimus again. She loops her arms around his neck and slings her legs around his waist, and poor Rodimus makes a sound like he's dying as she grinds her wet pussy against him.  
  
He's so warm. Warmer than another human, even. He's like a heating pad, or a hot water bottle.  
  
"Come on, hot stuff," Leigh cajoles him, rocking her hips, and she feels Rodimus shiver and hears a quiet 'click', and then a long, smooth, slippery something is pressing hard against her belly.  
  
Leigh looks down.  
  
She's not 100% sure what she was expecting, but _that_ \-- yeah, that seems about right.  
  
Rodimus' dick is just as flashy as the rest of him, if not even more so; the same vibrant reds along the sides and the head of it, a glossy, shiny gold filling in the rest. It's about as long as any toy Leigh has ever taken, and possibly even a little thicker around, and although Leigh usually likes to handle herself with a certain amount of dignity, she's _definitely_ not above the desperate tingling that builds in the pit of her stomach as she looks at him.  
  
"...Nice dick," she tells him.  
  
Rodimus snorts, and then laughs.  
  
"Spike. And thanks. Nice...valve?"  
  
"Pussy. And thanks!"  
  
This is silly. They are awfully silly together. Leigh can't find it in herself to mind.  
  
"Fuck me already," she urges him, grinding on him again, and Rodimus' reserves of patience, already stretched so thin, crumple like a wet paper bag with the first slide of his spike through her lips. He fumbles to line himself up, with a shaking hand.  
  
"I won't-- I promise I won't hurt you," he says, glancing between them and then up at her, and he looks faintly worried, but Leigh just tilts her head.  
  
"I know you won't, doofus. Hey. Look. I'm plenty stretched. Just go slow at first. I'm a big girl. I can take it."  
  
She rubs the back of his neck encouragingly, and Rodimus leans into it and finally lines himself up with her.  
  
He gives her a look. She returns it. Then he's reaching for her, and his hand finds hers, and they lace their fingers together again and squeeze as Rodimus presses his spike against her and finally presses in.  
  
Leigh breathes in hard through her nose. She can hear Rodimus grit his teeth so hard they grind, and then he drops his head and groans so sweetly that Leigh has to clench down around him in response.  
  
He's not in too far yet, just a few inches so far, but he's different that anything she's had before and he's _hot_ and _metal_ but _living_ , and he stretches her open in a way she hadn't even realized she'd been missing so badly until now. She rocks her hips against him, and he slides into her another inch or two.  
  
"Oh, _god,_ " Rodimus grits out, strangled, "You're so tight. Does this-- hurt? I don't wanna--"  
  
His face is in the crook of her neck, and Leigh turns her head in response to his words and on impulse, kisses what she can reach.  
  
"No. I mean-- fuck, god, it doesn't _hurt_ , _please_ keep going, Rodimus, come _on!_ "  
  
His cooling fans are whirring like he's about to have a meltdown. She can feel the heat blasting from him, shimmering the air around him, but somehow Rodimus is still careful enough to keep his frame from reaching dangerous temperatures, and Leigh doesn't suffer for it any more than a little more sweat than usual. Rodimus bucks his hips once, hard, and abruptly he bottoms out in her.  
  
Leighs _gasps_. Rodimus shudders and mirrors the sound.  
  
There are no more words between them. Maybe they've both been waiting too long for this, whatever this is, maybe this was supposed to happen-- but they're both too pent-up to take it slowly and try for their usual banter, and so things devolve into that slow roll of heat and hips that's a rhythm older than they both ever could be.  
  
It's a hot stretch deep inside her, lighting sparks inside and out, and every wet slide and smack of the two of them together is simultaneously embarrassing and satisfying. Pretty much perfect. Rodimus has grabbed her hand again at some point, and with every thrust he squeezes it like it's his lifeline.  
  
With the way his face is twisted up in concentration, Leigh doesn't think he's going to last very long.  
  
"You okay?" she asks, breathing heavily, trying to meet his motions so that the whorls of his pelvic plating will grind against her clit when he hilts himself. Her voice sounds shaky even to her ears.  
  
Rodimus removes his face from the crook of her neck to look at her, and his eyes are unfocused and gemstone-bright.  
  
"I'm good, I'm good. I'm _so_ good. But I'm not gonna-- last. Oh, _fuck_ ," he breathes. He closes his eyes tightly, his nose wrinkling. "I can't, I don't think I can--"  
  
"It's _okay_ ," Leigh assures him, almost laughing. For all his bluster, Rodimus can be bizarrely sweet. "You can just let go. I want it. Do you wanna cum inside me?"  
  
Rodimus makes a charming sound that's very reminiscent of a car engine stalling, and then before Leigh can even tease him about it, Rodimus is snapping his hips into her desperately, making frustrated little noises past bitten lips, and it's all Leigh can do to hold on and encourage him through it as Rodimus slams himself deep into her and holds her there and cums. And cums _hard_.  
  
Liquid gushes into her with a heat that's so startling she's forced to slap a hand over her mouth to muffle herself-- a heat that's just this side of uncomfortable-- but it keeps coming as Rodimus' spike pulses and his arms lock up around her like a cage, and the heat settles into a dizzying warmth, like liquid sun, as Rodimus' transfluid spurts out around his spike and dribbles thickly out of her cunt.  
  
Leigh fumbles for herself as Rodimus rides his high, listening closely to his choked-off gasping, and then her fingers find her clit and she rubs herself furiously to the sound of him coming undone.  
  
By the time Rodimus is finally spent, slumping down against her, Leigh is cresting the wave of her own release, the pleasure very nearly breaking, and all she needs to hit that peak is to glance down and see the way the transfluid paints the floor underneath them in spatters of bright pink. She cums for the third and final time for him, around him, this time, and Rodimus can't do anything but gasp and stutter against her as her pussy squeezes tightly down around his spike. She writhes and whines and Rodimus holds her through it until the crash of pleasure fades to a satisfied buzz.  
  
Leigh tries to move, but her limbs just sort of twitch. She can feel Rodimus still on top of her, inside of her. Can feel his transfluid rolling down her thighs.  
  
"Holy _shit_ ," she hears Rodimus mumble, sounding dazed. Leigh nods as vigorously as she can manage in her particular state. She's inclined to agree.  
  
"Carry me to bed," she manages to demand. She hears Rodimus laugh, tired but genuine, and she opens her eyes long enough to grin at him in that blissed-out way lovers do, and she sees him return it before she slumps back to the floor again, gathered up in his arms.  
  
"You're gross. We're both gross. Bath first."  
  
"Carry me to bath, then."  
  
Rodimus snorts, and doesn't really move.  
  
"Let a mech enjoy the afterglow."  
  
Leigh doesn't really hear him, and she doesn't see the tenderness bright and bare in his eyes. He cradles her close, and she's already asleep.


End file.
